


avril lavigne has nothing on me

by brawltogethernow



Series: mee-ow [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Catlad, Cat Puns, Gen, No Continuity We Men Like Die, Stephanie Brown is Robin (but does not feature), Tim Drake is Catlad, Tim Drake is Robin, based on the concept of tim's five minute retirement but not actually compliant with it, established tim/steph but again, seriously i don't know why writers are always trying to load that trait on dick, tim is the actual family adrenaline junkie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 11:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16554908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawltogethernow/pseuds/brawltogethernow
Summary: Outside forces press Tim into retirement. Selina takes pity.





	avril lavigne has nothing on me

"Why are you here, Selina."

Retirement is not suiting Timothy Drake well. He's hunched in one corner of his cavernous bedroom like - well, like a scraggly, pissed off juvenile bird. Selina can't think of a better description for a Robin, honestly. The kid is kidding himself if he thinks this hiatus from the old rooftop dance is going to stick, unwilling or not. The computer screen he's hunched over lights up the pissy planes of his face in flat blueish-white watercolor strokes. The room is dark except for the amber glow diffusing from the only uncovered window - Gotham's ambient light pollution strong even two steps removed from the city proper over here in rich boy real estate - and the magnesium glow of the screen. This, Selina figures, is because the brainier kids are the less they intrinsically know how to take care of themselves. They learn it, hard and slow, in their twenties, when their lives start to fall apart. The gloom makes the tennis court-sized room feel like a cave - and, oh, hey. Maybe the lights are off on purpose, after all. The kid can't go home, but he can make his bedroom feel like it.

But Selina's been in the Cave, a time or two, and the clutter of strange technology, mementos, and stalagmites doesn't feel like this. It feels like a clubhouse, full of quiet activity and secrets. Exclusive, safe, and slapdash. It feels like a hug.

This curtained over room is just oppressive.

Of course, _some_ \- she'll grant only some, let's be realistic - of his sourpuss attitude might be because a known criminal has waltzed onto his property to perched in his window. Here she is, rudely blocking off half of his negligible light sources. She obligingly hops down from the frame. He fails to look grateful. Honestly, bats. The only one who knew how to have fun was Robin I.

But that's why she's here.

"I'm here to take you out on a night on the town, little bird. Wouldn't want you to curl up and die here, only to be discovered as a sad mummy in Superman pajamas when the maid next makes a circuit of your room."

He squint-glares are her incredulously. Oof, he _is_ having a bad time. Normally he's at least got a quip for her. She's seen him manage quips concussed, half-drowned, and, once, completely covered from toes to cape in blue paint. She thinks his puns actually get better when he has a concussion, which is probably indicative of _something._

"They're Super _boy_ pajamas," he says. In the measured, patiently correcting tone of someone who really wants to throw something. She'll just go ahead and assume that's not because of the pajama comment. It feels like a safe bet. Nobody's at their best being caged.

"Yeah, well, try on _these_ pajamas, instead," she purrs, and tosses what she brought with her at his face.

The matte black fabric smacks him neatly in the kisser, flapping around his head for maximum comedy, then slithers down into his lap. He picks it up, using just the thumb and index fingers of each hand, like he thinks it might fall apart, or have contact poison on it. Confirms that it's a black catsuit with big green goggles and little black cat ears. "The cat's pajamas?" he says. "Also: What."

" _There_ he is," Selina says. "I knew your awful sense of humor had to be in there somewhere."

"It's not awful, it's classic," says Tim. "I'm not going _thieving_ with you."

"Trust me, little bird, it _is_. Bats aren't who you train with to work your humor muscle."

"Nightwing's funny."

"Nightwing's adorable. That makes it seem like he's funny."

Tim makes a face, one you'd expect from someone whose older sibling-lite you just called adorable. The best name for it would be _bleh._

"And nobody can learn Batman's style of humor," she continues, grabbing her costume's tail and spinning the tip in a lazy circle while she talks. "Because they'd also have to learn his deadpan, and that's inhuman feat. Go on, put on my gift. I'll turn around."

"Do you think you have blackmail on me or something? Why would you think I would do this?"

Selina favors him with a slow, wicked smirk.

"Don't you miss being out?" she says.

Tim doesn't move, exactly. It's just his entire body tenses.

"See?" Selina says. "I don't need to have anything on you. You'll come for a joyride because you want to."

Tim's hands tighten on the catsuit. "Is this a plot? Did B upset you?" Bless his skeptical little heart. "Because whatever it was, I swear his personality is just like that."

Selina reaches out and taps him on the nose. He twitches it, but doesn't flinch. "You want to know my reason?"

"Yes," he answers with the instantaneous response time of a born busybody.

Selina takes a deep, dramatic breath.

"I feel bad," she says. "It's that simple. I'm worried about you, kid. I was wondering where you were, and after I got the story out of Batman, I thought you might be getting stuck inside your head cooped up in here."

"I don't have a problem living a normal life," Tim says, hunching his shoulders and curling away from her. The suit is still in his hands. "I'm normal."

He even manages a little conviction. "It is _adorable_ that you still think that."

Tim sighs. It's a long, thin sound. Like he's letting air out of a birthday balloon.

"I can't go out," he says. He's staring off into the shadows, not at her. "My father - he has too much. On me. On us. If he sees I've been out, he'll expose -"

"Yes, yes, he'll rain down holy fire if he sees _Robin's_ been out. One who could be you, not the Spoiler. What's he got to think about it if I happen to pick up a mysterious new sidekick? Get it, kid? It's called a loophole. Thieves are good at those. Learn it. Memorize it."

"You're not training me to be a thief, Selina," he says. But he's smiling, barely. A slight inward press of the mouth. He really _is_ too much like his mentor, in little ways.

"We'll see," she says, though she's not invested in it. You can't push people ways they don't want to go - that's about her entire life philosophy. She just applies it the most obviously to she, herself, and her. "But do you get it now? I'm not trying to blackmail you into a spin as a kitten. I'm _offering._ "

He inhales through his teeth, eyes on that shadowy distance again. She feels like she can see his brain churning, doesn't bother trying to guess all the things it's running through. Probably mostly bullshit. Selina suspects he struggles a little with anxiety.

"Your girlfriend's out wearing your outfit right now, right?" she says. "That's kinda hot -"

" _Selina -!_ "

"- Maybe you'll get to flirt with her. It's bat and cat _tradition._ "

This tips it for him. Selina unironically loves teenagers. He wavers for another two seconds, then jumps out of his computer chair and shakes out the catsuit.

"I'm not helping you do anything flagrantly immoral," he says, words fast and tumbling over themselves a little. The light in his eyes is the kind that their type of people only get from putting on a mask. He reaches over and stabs the power button on his computer. Selina's preeetty sure you're not supposed to do that, the overeager little mite. Anything _flagrantly_ immoral. What would the Batdad say about that adverb?

She grins, small and sharp. "Good to have you on board, _kitten_."

He groans. "That had better not be what you're planning on calling me."

"Catlad?"

"...Maybe."

"Tomcat?"

"Definitely a no."

The computer screen brightens blindingly on a shutdown screen, then dies out. She leans over in the suddenly warm, intensified gloom to poke the suit, which he's finally stopped strangling and started examining. "Look, I even put a computer in it. I know your style."

Clever typist's fingers obligingly feel around and find the hardware in the gloves and belt. "...This is three generations out of date. I'm bringing my own."

She purses her lips. "Really? The guy I stole it from looked like he knew his stuff. That's disappointing."

Tim goes rigid, fingers freezing. Selina sighs. _Lawful types_. They're determined to be allergic to fun.

"Re _lax_ , kid. He was a real piece of work. Screwing his employees out of pay and buying black market artifacts with it, the whole nine. I did a good thing. Your boss was there and everything. Rolled his eyes at me when I found a big trunk of jewels and pulled a duffel bag out. You know how it is - you can't _see_ his eyes, but you can tell."

The kid relaxes minutely; she's not sure if that's because of her explanation, or from her stating the Bat's still his boss. "...Yeah, you can totally tell. Why was Batman there?"

"The mark was buying mutant crocodiles as well as valuables. Don't ask me, that's not my end of things."

He makes a bratty face. Kid's obviously already feeling better, and they haven't even left his bedroom yet. "It's _my_ end of things."

Selina raises one eyebrow, though the effect's probably lost in the gloom. But maybe, like a Batman eyeroll, it'll have some punch anyway. "Do I look like your dad? Am I the type to keep somebody from what they've decided to do?"

He bites his lip. He knows her, and he knows the answer. "No."

She claps her hands together. "Alright then! Get those pajamas on, my temporary protégé! We're hitting the rooftops! Ooh - what about Tabby? Sounds like a girl's name, but so does Robin, and that works for you."

He tugs the goggles on. "As long as they're not hot and tin, hm? And I'll think about it."

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to "[Hello Kitty](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LiaYDPRedWQ)", incidentally. Which I will neither defend nor apologize for.


End file.
